


Cedrella

by NeonDomino



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Cinderella Elements, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25289179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonDomino/pseuds/NeonDomino
Summary: Cedrella was finally allowed to attend a ball, where she meets a masked stranger and falls in love. Will she ever find out who he was? One-Shot.
Relationships: Cedrella Black Weasley/Septimus Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Cedrella

**Author's Note:**

> The name Cedrella makes me think of Cinderella, so...  
> This was written in 2014.

* * *

She had been the only one in the family that had been placed outside Slytherin.

She was disgraced. Only kept on the family tree in hopes that someone from a good family would still be willing to take her.

But as the years passed, and she left Hogwarts, she found herself treated as lowly as a House Elf.

Time after time, she would watch Charis and Callidora dress up, and go to a party, the invites not extending to her. Yes, her name was written, but mother would look at her in disgust and tell her that she wasn't welcome at the party. She would sit with the house elf instead, her only company, unable to leave the house as the wards were set to keep her in.

It wasn't until her nineteenth birthday grew close, that she had a glimpse at an invitation, carelessly left laying on the table.

Harfang Longbottom was holding a ball. He had turned 21, and was looking for a betrothal. Any single women, of pure-blood stature were welcome to attend. Her eyes moved quickly over the Invitation.

Masquerade Ball. Pure Blood.

She smiled to herself, if only she could go. She thought back to her days in Hogwarts. Harfang had been a Ravenclaw like her, a few years above. He had soft brown hair, and brown eyes, and he was devilishly handsome.

Would her parents see him a suitable match for one of them? Dare she hope that she would be allowed to attend?

She sat down with the family for dinner, as she did every evening, listening to the conversation around her, and after she ate, she requested her parents attention, her sisters having already left the dining room.

She fearfully requested to attend the ball, hoping that as they were in the same house at Hogwarts, her parents might see him as a suitable match.

Her mothers lip had curled at the thought, but her father sat forward in his chair, deep in thought.

_She could go._

* * *

The day of the ball came so quickly. It was also the day of Cedrella's nineteenth birthday, not that anyone cared to remember, or to celebrate. That evening, she did her hair and make-up perfectly, and slipped on the dress her mother had begrudgingly handed to her. Cedrella was a Black. Disgraced or not, she would always wear the best clothes, so the dress was blue, made of the finest materials, and her blonde hair ran like silk over her shoulders.

Her sisters shared a smile with her behind her mothers back, pleased that she looked the part.

As the carriage pulled up at the estate, Cedrella placed her mask on her face. A charm to keep it there, before helping her sisters apply their own. The sisters were helped out of the carriage, but Lysandra grabbed her arm.

"You will be back in this carriage by Midnight. Failure to do so, will result in punishment. Your father has allowed you this evening, but past midnight is a new day.

Cedrella climbed out of the carriage, and marvelled at the sight in front of her. She followed her sisters into the estate. It was only half past seven, she had over four hours.

* * *

It was a lost cause. She had one dance with Harfang, before he moved onto the next dance partner. Finally Harfang had Callidora in his arms, and there the eldest Black sister stayed.

Charis shot Cedrella a look of pity, before she was swept away for a dance, and Cedrella found herself wandering around rather than dancing. Her parents wouldn't let her attend another party for a long time. She knew this had been her chance.

She didn't notice a pair of blue eyes follow her every movement around the room.

It was close to eleven when a tall man approached her. She examined his mask in detail, taking in the red and gold harlequin pattern that it portrayed.

A deep voice requested a dance, and she politely refused.

"I see you've refused a lot of men the pleasure of leading you in a dance," he told her. "May I request a game of chess in the study, instead."

Cedrella looked around the room. She didn't particularly want to dance, and the thoughts of a worthy opponent in chess was too much for her to pass up. She took his offered arm, and, with a slight smile, allowed herself to be escorted from the room.

That hour passed as though it had been minutes. They had played only two games of chess, and this man - this stranger, had charmed her thoroughly. She hadn't laughed as much as she did with him, and determined him to be a friend of Harfang's. She worked out that he had attended Hogwarts, but she couldn't remember meeting anyone so charming in her time there.

She wondered how she could fall for someone without even knowing his identity?

"May I ask why I haven't seen you attend a ball before?" the stranger asked, his soft voice sending shivers down her spine. She met his eyes. Her silver to his blue, and gave a sad smile.

"I'm afraid my parents don't send me, as they feel my sisters are better suited to the... well, suitors. I was allowed to attend today due to the fact that Harfang was a Ravenclaw, like myself, which is considered a disgrace for someone in my family to be placed in, and because today is my ninteenth birthday."

His hand found hers. "I hope your birthday hasn't been too much of a let down," he said, softly. "I would like to say that your family are foolish to not be proud of you."

Her smile widened. "It hasn't, the past hour has been wonderful," she admitted, "and thank you."

"Only a few more minutes until your birthday is over," he replied, and his words sent another kind of shiver down her spine. Minutes.

Minutes to get back to her carriage.

"My apologies, I have to return home, immediately. I was told midnight."

"Can I see you again?" he asked, and she wavered. He was at the party, he was a pure blood.

"I'm Cedrella Black," she told him, and he nodded.

"I worked that out hours ago," he stated. "Almost immediately, and I will find you." He reached for her hand, placing a kiss on it, before she rushed from the room.

She made it back to the carriage with a minute to spare, and a couple of minutes later her mother returned to find her waiting patiently. The driver was ordered to take her home and return, and Cedrella didn't notice the blue eyes follow the carriage.

* * *

Everything returned to normal, or so she thought until a few days later, when her father summoned her into his office, where he sat with her mother.

"We have received a request for your hand," her father stated, looking at the paper.

She was surprised. Who would have requested her hand, when Charis was available?

"Who has offered?" She asked, nervously.

Her parents' lips both curled.

"Septimus Weasley," her mother spat.

Her eyes widened as she remembered the boy from school. A Gryffindor and a Blood Traitor. But as she pictured him, she realised just who was under that mask.

"We will refuse this offer on your behalf, stating that we have made arrangements with the Malfoys for -"

"Father," she whispered. She had a choice now. Two ways to be free from her life, from this home that had fast become her prison. The Malfoys were the best option in light of her upbringing, but she treasured that memory from the library.

"A marriage to a Weasley would have you disowned and stricken from the family tree," he informed her, coldly. "I will leave you to think this through, Cedrella. Accepting this would be a disgrace to this family. You will not be a part of it anymore."

She was handed the request for her hand, and sent from the room.

* * *

It was late that night that she took the small bag of her belongings and the request, and found herself Apparating across London. A knock sounded on a door, waking the occupant.

"Please forgive me for arriving at this late hour," she whispered, shivering with cold as she took in the familiar face, this time without a mask. Her case was clutched in one hand, the parchment in the other. "I accept this offer."

She sank into the warm arms that wrapped around her, knowing that she'd be happy in them.

* * *


End file.
